Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics
by Sergeant Duck
Summary: I blame Kyron's Sadism Ratchet icon for producing the plot bunny. Movie Ratchet & Ironhide doin what they do best; driving each other crazy as only two old people can. Yay for rated M mech smex! RatchetxIronhide...or IronhidexRatchet, you be the judge!
1. Chapter 1

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics **

Ironhide glanced up from the table as he detected another presence within the previously empty recreation room. His optics followed Ratchet as the medic entered the darkened room making a beeline for his table and taking a seat directly across from the weapons specialist. Ironhide leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest patiently waiting for whatever the medic obviously had to say to him. Instead, the other mech grinned and mimicked his movement folding his own arms across his chest. Ironhide raised an optic ridge in question to the other's antics. "Well? Out with it already?"

Ratchet smirked and shook his head. "Ironhide, is there any particular reason as to why you are sitting in here by yourself?"

"Watchin' a movie."

Ratchet turned around in his chair to regard the large television that the humans had provided them with. It was indeed playing a movie that he'd recognized as one of Mudflaps'. With a snort he spun around and fixed the other mech with an amused expression. "Really? What is the title of said movie if you don't mind me asking?"

Ironhide shrugged. "Annoying Human Entertainment." Ratchet snorted again. "Oh, my apologies, that was on earlier. I believe this one's called the Return of Annoying Human Entertainment."

"Ironhide, we've had more then a handful of new arrivals over the last several months. I fail to see why you still choose to seek so much time in isolation. It is not healthy for a mech to be this anti-social. Even an ornery old scrap heap like you needs company once in awhile."

"An I fail to see why ya'll can't just leave me alone. Maybe I just wanna sit an enjoy some peace an quiet."

"I was unaware that your vocabulary even contained the words peace and quiet… or enjoy."

Ironhide let an exasperated huff of air out from his vents and leaned forward. "What do you want medic?"

Ratchet leaned forward once again mirroring the other's movement as he studied the dark mech across from him. He gave a sharp nod as if reaching an important decision and leaned back into his chair. "You know what you need Ironhide?"

"Don't care."

"You need to relax."

"I am relaxed."

"You are too tense."

"Keeps me sharp for battle."

"You need to unwind as the humans say."

"I don't need human advice."

"What you need is a good, long, hard interface."

"I don't need…" Ironhide cut himself off and lowered his optic ridges until only a narrow line of blue light showed through as he glared at the medic. "That's just cruel Ratch'. Ya don't go sayin' things like that to a mech who's been without…without..."

"A fuck buddy?"

Ironhide jerked backwards in his chair nearly sending both himself and the piece of furniture crashing to the floor. "A what?!"

Ratchet half turned back towards the tv as if only barely paying attention to their conversation. "A fuck buddy. It is a human term. You really do need to spend more time learning about our new home and it's occupants; or at least some of their mannerisms." He smirked and rolled his head to the side catching Ironhide's shocked expression. "Oh fine, if it bothers you that much, we'll go with the more traditional title of berth partner."

Ironhide gave his head a slight shake as if attempting to physically reset his processors. "Uh, yeah, berth partner." With a low growl he regained his composure and leaned forward onto the table. "Doesn't matter what you wanna call it, it doesn't make it right to use it as form of teasin'! It's downright…"

"Cruel, yes, we've established that already Ironhide."

Ironhide felt his lip components pulling back to reveal a snarl as he was interrupted once again. Ratchet was getting way too much enjoyment out of this conversation for the weapon specialist's liking. "Then why…"

Ratchet cycled his vents loudly in a dramatic sigh effectively cutting the black mech off once again. "You make this so easy you might as well repaint that ridiculously over armored chassis of yours with a target practice glyph. Highly amusing considering how quick you are to shove your cannons at anything even remotely resembling a target to begin with."

Now quite thoroughly convinced that he was being made the butt of some joke he wasn't entirely getting, Ironhide abruptly stood throwing his chair into the far wall. "What?!"

"My vocals are functioning at one hundred percent. If you misunderstood my last statement the fault is not with me."

Ironhide shuddered as he attempted to hold his temper in check. "Now look here you glow in the dark smelter reject…"

"Now Ironhide, there's no need for actual name calling. You might make me reject my offer." Ratchet fought valiantly to keep his facial plates in a neutral expression as Ironhide froze with his mandible wide open. It was obvious that the slightly larger mech was well and truly shocked and having difficulties processing exactly what Ratchet was implying. "Take your time; it'll come to you eventually. In the mean time I will be over on the couch watching the television should that ancient CPU of yours decide to de-frag."

Ironhide sat down next to Ratchet on the couch forcing his optics to remain focused on the movie in front of them. He opened his mouth three times with nothing coming out before he was finally able to properly vocalize. "So, you uh, offerin'?"

"I **was**."

Ironhide glanced at the brightly colored mech for half a second before he returned his optics to the television. "Was?"

"The offer has since expired."

Ironhide's head whipped around to face the medic full on. "Whaddya mean expired?"

"Now you have to beg."

Ironhide stood up angrily and glared down at the now smug looking mech. "Beg?! I don't beg for anything! Not from Decepticons, not from Autobots, and most definitely not from **you**!" With that he stomped around the couch and stormed out of the recreation room.

Ratchet stopped his internal chronometer at four minutes and twenty-two seconds as Ironhide sat back down on the couch beside him. "Welcome back."

Ironhide cleared his vocalizer of static and scooted closer to Ratchet. He reached out and gently grasped the other by his chin and forced the smaller mech to face him. He altered his vocals to a softer setting and dimmed his optics. "Ratch? Please?" Ironhide felt his spark pound against it's casing in anticipation as Ratchet made no move to pull away. With a small victorious smile Ironhide leaned down to claim the medic's lips.

"What a pity. Samuel put forth so much more effort when begging Mikaela for her attentions just this morning."

Ironhide cycled his optics in confusion at the sudden comment. He cycled them again as Ratchet not only removed his hand from his facial plates but moved his frame to the other end of the couch; and well out of reach. "Samuel? The Whitwicky boy? What, you want me to beg like a human now?!" Ratchet hmm'd in response as if the thought was only just now occurring to him. For the second time that evening Ironhide found himself jumping off the couch in anger. He took a few steps towards Ratchet shoving a finger at the other's chest plates. "You are straight up outta yer processor if you think I'll lower myself to mimic some human's desperate an pathetic act to mate with his partner just to satisfy your sadistic little…" Ironhide cut off with a frustrated snarl as he failed to find the appropriate word.

Ratchet glanced over the back of the couch as Ironhide's broad back cleared the recreation room's entrance. With a grin he stretched his arms over his head and re-initiated the timer on his internal chronometer. Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds later he felt the couch shift as a heavy weight settled onto the furniture next to him.

"Alright Ratch, what do I gotta do?"


	2. Chapter 2

****Ok, not as good as my first chapter, at least I don't think so, but this was the best I could do without taking it too far... yet. SUFFER, YOU SLASH OBSESSED FANGIRLS!! MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA****

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics - Chapter 2**

The door slid open and Ratchet calmly stepped out into the hallway. He didn't glance behind him to make sure the other was following his lead, he didn't need to; Ratchet knew he'd be there. An amused chuckle escaped his vocals at that thought. Oh this had so been worth the wait. Maintaining a steady pace, Ratchet proceeded down the hall smiling to himself as another set of footsteps echoed his own. It was late now by Earth standards and the Autobots, who had readily adapted to the humans' schedules, were either already in their quarters for the evening or working their various night shifts. It was no surprise that not a single Autobot or human was encountered by the time he reached the door leading to his private quarters. No one to see the hungry look on the dark mech following him or the look of anticipation he knew was clear as day on his own faceplates. He quickly entered the code into his door lock and held the door open politely waiting for his guest to enter first.

Ironhide mentally pounded his CPU as if it were Starscream in an attempt to make some semblance of sense out of this situation. This, this was beyond insulting. Here he was, a full grown mech, amongst one of the oldest Cybertronians still functioning, and yet here he was… following Ratchet down the hallway like some Earth canine following it's adolescent human master. No, no that was not an insulting enough analogy to fit this. It was more like one of those smelter pit bound twins chasing after a hubcap rolling down the street merely because it was shiny. Yes, that was a degrading enough image. Ironhide held onto that image in the hopes that he could pull his processor out of his tailpipe long enough to reroute his processing back to his CPU and away from his interfacing equipment.

He felt his spark skip a pulse as Ratchet turned a corner a little further down the hallway. Ironhide refused to admit that his pace increased until he too rounded the corner and regained a visual on the other mech. Ratchet had stopped in front of a door and was inputting a code into the lock panel. Ironhide focused on the brightly colored armor of the other mech as he stepped closer. The symmetrical lines making up the medic's frame and armor plating was actually quite pleasing to the optic. Why had he never noticed that before? Ratchet was holding the door open for him by the time he closed the gap between them. He nearly growled at the smug grin the CMO offered him as he stepped inside the barely lit room.

Ratchet did not get a chance to turn around from securing the door before he was slammed into it, a heavy weight pressing into his frame. He gasped as Ironhide wasted no time in gripping his waist tightly with large hands and dipping his head down to nuzzle at the cabling in his neck. He moaned letting his head fall back giving the larger mech greater access and lost himself to the wonderful sensations that resulted. A low growl was all the warning he got before a bite was administered to a particularly sensitive cable in his neck. Ratchet gasped and clawed at the door riding out the delicious pain that was quickly melting into pleasure as Ironhide sucked and licked at the newly dented cabling.

Ratchet pulled a large quantity of air in through his intakes in an attempt to focus his processor. He berated himself for leaving an opening for the surprise **attack**. Exactly what did he expect was going to happen once he got the trigger happy and **starving** mech back into his quarters? He almost hated what he had to do but he couldn't afford to lose control of the situation; not now, he was too close. Using all of his strength, Ratchet pushed off from the door using both hands and pedes shoving both himself and a surprised Ironhide backwards. Still panting, Ratchet quickly got to his pedes and spun around to face the larger mech who was still sitting on his aft looking back in shock. "You fragger! Just exactly what do you think you were doing?!" Oh yes, the confused look in those glazed over optics and the dropped mandible were quite satisfying. "Have you forgotten the pre-conditions of this little **rendezvous** already?"

"Huh?"

What an intelligent response. Ratchet grinned and folded his arms across his torso while cocking a hip in an arrogant pose. "I'm waiting."

Ironhide stared up in complete and utter stunned confusion. One moment he was relishing in the wonderful sounds he was wringing out of the medic; the next he was on the floor with said mech scrambling off of him. What in the Pit was going on here?! His optic ridges scrunched together as he processed what Ratchet was telling him but was still coming up with nothing even remotely close to an answer. Waiting? Waiting for what? Oh… oh no… he can't possibly… His optics flared brightly as realization hit his central processing unit with the full force of an anti-seeker missile. "Beg? You still want me to beg?! Oh come off it Ratchet! I thought we were passed that! We are in your fraggin' quarters for Primus' sake!" The blank stare and bored expression he got in return was all the answer he needed. Ironhide quickly weighed in his options. Plan A, stand up and walk out with what was left of his pride intact; and end up having to sit in the ocean surf half the night until his systems cooled down. Plan B, bury his pride behind the biggest firewall he could find and get some mech lovin'. Well frag on a stick. Who wants beach sand stuck in their servos anyways?

Making sure to keep his optics locked with the smaller mech, Ironhide slowly got to his knees and shuffled closer.

**Push the review button, you know you want to anyways, and it fuels my insane plot bunnies...really it does...they enjoy it with a nice chiante sssp sssp sssp sssp sssp**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry bout the wait folks. Am finally at the new base an so should be able to get a few chapters out here an there between training. So call off the murder ninjas for cryin out loud!**

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics - Chapter 3**

Fingers trembled slightly as they ghosted over the edge of the bright yellow painted metal making up Ratchet's lower calf armor. The large silver digits were far more accustomed to causing pain and destruction rather than the sensual feather light caresses Ironhide was attempting to work out of them now. He leaned in and trailed his lips along the inner edge of the calf armor while his hands slid up to grasp the back of Ratchet's thighs. "Please." The whisper was meant to be felt more than heard as his lips maintained contact on the warming metal beneath. Meeting no resistance, Ironhide dared to worm his fingers deeper and traced the tires making up the medic's upper thighs. Another "please" was breathed as he raised himself to a higher position and kissed the metal strut above Ratchet's left knee. The action produced a low moan from the smaller mech and Ironhide's optics flared brightly in response.

The back of Ratchet's helm made a light thud as it fell back against the wall beside the door. Ironhide's ministrations on his legs had rendered the extremities to a quivering mass and their ability to keep him upright was questionable without the wall's help. He had expected the old warrior to put up more of a fight. Who knew that the larger mech was capable of such… Ratchet's train of thought came to a complete halt as he felt warm air expelled across the armor protecting his interface equipment. Ratchet shuttered his optics and took a deep breath of air through his vents in an attempt to cool his rapidly overheating systems. He was quickly losing control of this situation and that was just not acceptable. He re-opened the optic shutters at the sound of yet another whispered "please" from the other mech. He reached out to slide a finger along one of Ironhide's finials earning a deep purr in return. The purr turned to a very undignified squeak as Ratchet pinched the dark metal and pulled the other's helm back away from his interface armor. "No." He straightened from the wall and moved to step around the kneeling mech.

Ironhide reached out suddenly and grabbed the other mech by an ankle causing Ratchet to stumble forwards onto the floor. "Get yer fine yellow aft back here." Ratchet spun around onto his back and snarled while trying to kick off Ironhide's grip on his ankle. Ironhide returned the snarl with a loud growl and crawled over until he loomed over the other mech. "What are you playing at medic? What is your game?" He lowered his head until their facial plates were a mere inches apart. "I begged, I kneeled before yer royal CMO-ness, Pit… I literally kissed yer pedes!"

Ratchet tried to halt a nervous swallow as the larger mech glared down at him. The concept of making Ironhide beg had been borrowed from the humans; it was suggested that if a mate was willing to go through such trials to reach their 'goal' that there were true feelings involved. He wanted the other mech to want him, to truly want him, not choose him because there were so few alternatives. But now, now there were more than enough mechs and femmes on this planet to choose from. Since before the Allspark had been launched from Cybertron he had felt his spark gravitate towards the old warrior; but he needed to be sure. He did not want a one night 'face.'

Ironhide growled at the lack of response from the other. He brought his lips down onto Ratchet's in a hard brutal kiss. He pulled back after a time and grinned at the shocked expression below him. "Know what I think? I think you want this more than I do. I think you want me to just take you right here on the…"

_Frag yes! No! No, you need to want this more!_ Ratchet heaved his heavier frame to the side and managed to roll with the other mech until their positions were reversed. He quickly dug his fingers into the gaps between the pelvic and cod piece armor and gripped, **hard**. Ironhide's mandible opened wide as did his optics in a mixed expression of shock, pain, and more importantly, pleasure. Ratchet leaned down resting his lips against the other's audios. "And I think you do too much thinking for a warrior. Now, do you want me?"

Ironhide let out a small cough and nodded his head.

"Answer me" Ratchet growled.

"Yes, for the love of Primus yes!"

"Then you will abide by **my** rules."

"Anything you say Ratch."

"Anything is a dangerous word Ironhide. What if I said that I wanted to bring you to the verge of overload time and again but never let you experience it?"

Ironhide's optics stared back at the bright azure optics of the slightly smaller mech. "I'd say I deserved it." Had Ratchet's optics always been that intense?

"And what if I wanted to just lay there and let you pleasure me without a single touch in return?"

"I'd feel honored at the chance to please ya." _Primus, where has __**this**__ Ratchet been hidin' all my life?_

"It can be taught." Ratchet dragged his face down alongside the side of Ironhide's until he reached the cabling of his neck and bit down until he felt a slight trickle of fluid run down his jaw. The action caused the larger mech to buck off the floor with a scream. Ratchet released the cable and grabbed Ironhide's wrists forcing them to the floor above his helm. "You will not move again."

Ironhide forced his body to remain utterly still despite the feeling of something dripping from what had to be a Pit of a bite mark on his neck. The initial sting from the bite was quickly becoming pure bliss as Ratchet returned to the area and began to softly mouth the tender cabling. The medic lazily slid down his frame, his fingers expertly tracing between armor in his wake. Ironhide ground his dentals together and dug his fingers into the floor plating in an attempt to keep from moving or even calling out.

"You are doing very well" Ratchet mumbled against the dark plating protecting Ironhide's abdomen.

Without thinking, Ironhide replied with a strangled "thank you." He yelped as a solid smack of metal on rubber sounded loudly in the room quickly followed by a stinging sensation on the side of his right aft where Ratchet had literally spanked him.

"Shut up."

Ironhide shuttered his optics and gave into the wonderful sensations that the medic was producing across his body. He definitely had to make sure this was not a one time deal. A hiss nearly escaped his vocals when he felt a clever glossa tease the edges of his cod piece. _Frag him, frag his fingers, and frag his smelter pit of a glossa! _Cold air made contact with his exposed interface equipment. The sound of his cod piece landing on the floor somewhere on the other side of the room seemed to echo ominously._ Holy __**Primus!**_

"Do you want to touch me?"

_Question. He asked a question, does this mean I can talk? Is this a trick? Slag, what do I do? Damn, why did Primus gift mechs with enough energon to support a processor and interface equipment but not at the same fraggin' time?!_

Ratchet glanced up and chuckled at the look on consternation on the other's facial plates. "I give you permission to answer."

"Yes, let me… unh…!"

Ratchet grinned as he worked his fingers deeper into Ironhide's hip joints while teasing the exposed ports and wires of the weapons specialist's interface panel with his glossa. "Let you what?"

"Please, oh please, let me… oh Primus for the love of… ouch! Damnit Ratchet that's sensitive!"

"You may touch."

**On a side note I originally had Ironhide using his "greater weight" to pin Ratchet down. I was corrected by my friend who stated that Ratchet, because of his redundant systems, weighs 6.7 tons while Ironhide weighs in at 3.8 tons. HOLY WEIGHT WATCHERS BATMAN!!! Someone put Ratchet on Jenny Craig or something!!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics - Chapter 4**

"You may touch."

Universal happy words. It didn't matter what age, sex, species; those words were welcomed by all. Ironhide was far from the exception to this general consensus as his servos immediately reached out and grabbed hold of the bars crisscrossing Ratchet's chest. Ratchet slapped his hands away and leaned in a little closer.

"You may touch."

Ironhide frowned slightly in confusion and raised his hands in another attempt to touch the warm metal stretched out over him. His fingers failed to even make contact this time as Ratchet slapped them away yet again. A low growl began forming in his vocals in frustration.

Ratchet leaned down even closer and whispered into the dark mech's audio. "I said, you… may… touch."

Ironhide rubbed his fingers together in consternation as he stared up at the brightly colored mech. He **wanted** to touch; he wanted to touch so very badly. He wanted to **be** touched but that damn overgrown flashlight on wheels was having too much fraggin' fun playin' his sadistic little games an twistin' the meanings of his words an… Ironhide halted his internal rant as the puzzle in his processor clicked into place. Oh. Cautiously, he once again raised his hands. He let a small hiss of steam escape his vents as his servos wandered over heated plating; his **own** chest plating. Fragger said touch but didn't say who now did he?

Ratchet grinned and watched the movements with hungry optics. "Lower."

Splayed fingers slid over the thick pectoral armor and began making their way south. Ironhide softly moaned as he traced the intricate plates protecting his abdomen. He dipped his fingers between the various armor seams seeking sensitive circuit panels and wires that seemingly throbbed at his own touch.

Ratchet slid down Ironhide's legs so as not to impede on the wandering hands' progress but avoided the already exposed interface equipment. He let his own fingers lazily trace around the armor decorating the larger mech's thighs. A trail of fogged metal followed in his wake as he brushed his lips along the rapidly heating plating. The next command of "lower" came out as a barely heard whisper.

He should have been getting angry over the commands. He should be getting frustrated over pleasuring himself on the medic's floor when he could have done this just fine in the comfort of his own quarters thank you very much. He should have been feeling humiliated at how easily he disregarded those facts and obediently obeyed and thrust his fingers into the gaps at his hips. Ironhide arched his back as pleasure raced through his systems forcing his cooling fans to kick into high gear. A breathy whimper escaped his lips as he curled his fingers deep within.

A pleasant tingle flowed up from Ratchet's own interface equipment as he rubbed his cod piece along Ironhide's leg. The light friction was a delicious feeling that added to the growing heat he felt radiating from the metal beneath him. He clenched his dentals together as the urge to open his own interface panel and connect with the panting writhing mech under him was nearly took him over. The sound of a tiny whimper froze his movements. It had sounded so needful, so delicate, so… **not** Ironhide.

Ratchet raised his head up enough to get a better look at his partner's face and felt his mouth drop open. The image of Ironhide, the mech who would stomp into the med bay carrying his own dismembered arm and calmly ask for some duct tape, was now offering up the most erotic vision Ratchet had ever seen. Ironhide's helm was tilted back and was panting through parted lips glistening with coolant. His fingers were buried deep within the mechanisms making up his hips which were twitching and bucking under the assault. Ratchet recorded the image and made three copies to be on the safe side as this was truly a picture worth coming back to. The larger mech arched his back again nearly dislodging Ratchet from his perch on the other's legs. As if suddenly compelled, Ratchet reached up and embedded his skilled fingers around Ironhide's interface panel and released a short burst of energy instantly stimulating the nodes in the surrounding area.

Ironhide screamed and jerked as what felt like liquid fire encompassed his interface equipment. The sheer pleasure of it nearly sent him into overload. "Primus!" He quickly yanked his fingers free of his hips and made to grab the foreign hands invading his interface cover. At the last possible nanosecond he halted his servos remembering that he had not yet been given permission to touch the other. His dark blue optics met with the lighter azure of Ratchet's. "Ratch… Ratchet, please, I want you." He almost winced at hearing the husky tone in his vocals but quickly disregarded it as he decided to correct his previous statement. "I **need** you."

Ratchet slowly pulled his hands free and studied the expression facing him. He crawled over the other's frame purposely letting their plating scrape together as he went. He stopped with his face hovering over Ironhide's. The larger mech brought a shaking hand up towards his facial plates but stopped short of touching and an agonized look crossed the other's features.

"Ratch… "

Ratchet brought his lips down onto Ironhide's quivering mouth and engaged in what he'd never admit, even under threat of torture, as the most passionate kiss of his existence. After what felt like an eternity or perhaps only a few seconds, his internal chronometer seemed to have stopped functioning, he pulled back. He grinned smugly at the blissful look on Ironhide's facial plates. "You left scrape marks on my floor. I expect them to be fixed." Ratchet's lips twitched as he fought the laughter bubbling up within at Ironhide's expression, which was rapidly degrading into something resembling a youngling being denied an energon goodie or a favorite toy. "Tomorrow. Right now, before you cause anymore damage, get your aft off my floor and onto my berth."


	5. Chapter 5

*****Really short chapter here. Sorry. Several plot bunnies had to die just to motivate the rest to give me this much material. Hopefully my vicious dictatorship will straighten these fuckers out.*****

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics - Chapter 5**

"…" Ironhide's intakes let out a stressed whine as he attempted to pull in enough air to cool his systems. He bit his glossa to curb his laughter and chanced a glance over at Ratchet in the repair berth adjacent to his own. "… "

Ratchet folded his arms across his chest angrily. "Go ahead, get it out of your system." Ironhide snorted loudly and waved a hand at the CMO in apology as yet another wave of laughter overtook him. Ratchet huffed and let his helm fall back against the repair berth with a dull clank. "There is no way this cycle could get any worse." The timid sound of a vocalizer clearing beside him reached his audios through Ironhide's raucous laughter. "Spit it out youngling."

Jolt frowned at the youngling title but wisely chose to refrain from arguing. "The scan is finished. The relay is completely burned out." The younger mech sneaked a quick peak at Ironhide who was now reduced to giggles of all things. "It will need to be replaced."

"Of course it will! I could have told you that!"

Jolt brushed aside the snapped reply realizing that this must be a rather embarrassing moment for his mentor. "I think I remember seeing one while performing inventory on the storage room the other day."

"Yo, so, lemme get this straight…"

Ratchet winced as one of the last voices he wanted to hear in what was left of the entire Cybertronian race sounded from the med bay doors. "Go. Away."

"You is a patient in your **own** med bay 'cause Ironbutt fried ya during interfacing?!" Skids shook his head and shot his twin a disgusted look.

Mudflap exaggerated a shudder. "Old mech sex. Man that's just wrong. I ain't gonna recharge right for a week."

"Mech fragged ya good huh Doc?"

"So who was on top? I mean, no offense Doc, but I don't see the walkin' artillery there as bein' anyone's bitch."

Ratchet snarled and turned around in his repair berth to launch an intense glare at the twins hovering in the med bay entrance, but of course Ironhide chose that moment to manage a few words between peals of laughter.

"We didn't even make it that far! The Hatchet blew a fuse right before…"

"What Ironhide and I did is and will never be any of your business you little scrap heaps!" Ratchet stabbed a finger in Ironhide's direction. "I'm not the only one who ended up on a repair berth! Go pick on him! Fetch!"

"Actually it was a power relay, not a fuse." Jolt flinched as Ratchet sliced through the air with a hand.

"You! You are not helping!"

Skids snickered and took on a cocky stance. "We's havin' much mo' fun conversin' with you **Dr. Luv**. Hide is too busy laughin'."

Ratchet held up a fist shaking it slightly for emphasis. "Don't make me dig out the saw."

"Actually I highly doubt it would function properly as it would have been in the direct path of the damaged…"

Ratchet slowly turned to stare at Jolt. "Is there any particular reason as to why you can't keep your mouth **shut?!** They didn't need to know that you fragging traitor!" Ironhide was by now draped over the repair berth railing as his laughter prevented him from maintaining a sitting posture. Ratchet hopped off his repair berth and took a moment to steady himself. He pointed at each mech in turn. "Frag you, frag you, frag you, and most definitely **frag you!**"

Ironhide flinched as the last 'frag you' was spat at him. "Ratch…" He flinched again as the CMO limped off into his office in the back of the repair bay and slammed the door.

"But I didn't replace his power relay…" Jolt stated sadly.

"Hope ya got what you wanted outta that."

Ironhide turned his attention from the CMO's office to Mudflap. "What?"

Skids nudged his twin who nodded in understanding and answered the weapons specialist. "Hope you got what ya needed last night 'cause you ain't never gonna see that piece o' aft again. Least not in the extra curricullarrlar…uh…curric…" Mudflap paused and looked at his twin.

"Extra curricular you drone reject!"

"Oh, right, not in the extra curricular activities category is what I meant."

Ironhide frowned as the idea took hold in his processor. "But… "

Jolt sighed and leaned against Ratchet's now vacated repair berth. "I am ashamed to say that I did not help the situation and for that I apologize, but I am afraid that they're right Ironhide; for once. I believe the publicity of this situation as well as your reaction to it embarrassed Ratchet more than anything we said."

Mudflap pointed at the medical apprentice. "What he said."

Ironhide slumped back into his repair berth. "Slag."


	6. Chapter 6

**Ornery Soldiers and Sadistic Medics - Chapter 6**

Ironhide poked at his newly repaired hip joint and grunted in satisfaction. It was not perfect but he supposed that was to be expected seeing as how the repair was not carried out by Ratchet's experienced servos. Jolt was getting better but he still lacked the CMO's finesse. He glanced back at said medic's locked office and sighed heavily through his vents. Hours had gone by and Ratchet had yet to re-emerge from the small room. The mech he thought he knew better than most had shown Ironhide that he in fact knew nothing. Ratchet had revealed a whole other side, almost like an entirely different mech all together. And Ironhide liked it. Oh yes, he liked this new Ratchet very, very much. He wanted to know more, wanted to experience it, wanted to **taste **it. But the weapons specialist's hip was not the only thing that needed to be repaired. The damage he'd caused earlier had obviously been a direct hit on the other mech's fragile pride.

Ironhide turned away from Ratchet's sanctuary and found Jolt shuffling his pedes nervously near the med bay entrance. "Go on kid; go get some energon or somethin'." Jolt opened his mouth, probably to say that he was still on shift in the med bay, but a quick toss of Ironhide's head had the younger mech quickly scrambling out the door. Thankfully the blue mech had more intelligence than a certain pair of pain in the afts that nearly had to be physically thrown out earlier.

Ironhide pushed away from the repair berth he'd been leaning on and limped over to the office in the back of the med bay. He tried the door and frowned when the door lock refused him entry. "Ratch, look, I know you can hear me." _Of course he can hear me; nothin' escapes that slagger's audio receptors in the med bay._ "I fragged up ok?" He glared at the door as if he could intimidate it into opening for him. "Come on now, this is stupid." Still no response. Ironhide growled and smacked the door hard. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way Ratch. Don't make me break down the door!" The door opened and Ironhide found himself face to face with the muzzle of a small plasma rifle.

"I like my door just the way it is thank you very much."

Ironhide transferred his attention from the rifle to the dark scowl decorating Ratchet's face plates. "Nice gun, ya steal it off a femme?"

Ratchet sneered and flipped the rifle's safety off. "Go. Away."

Ironhide smirked. "You know it's gonna take more than that to scare me off Ratch." Ratchet calmly raised an optic ridge then lowered the rifle from Ironhide's face plates to his cod piece. Ironhide looked down at the rifle's new target then back up. "Alright, **now** ya have my attention."

"Last night was a mistake. I would prefer it if you just pretended nothing happened and left me in peace."

Ironhide growled. "Mistake? I already admitted I fragged up, what more you want from me mech?!"

Ratchet's optics dimmed slightly in response to his pained spark. "What part of leave did not compute?"

Ironhide ignored the increased pressure of the rifle against his cod piece and stepped forward till his chest plating came into contact with Ratchet's. "What part of I ain't leavin' did you not compute?" he whispered harshly.

Ratchet swallowed as the warmth radiating off the other mech hit him like a tidal wave. He took a step back into his office in an attempt to put some space between them only to have Ironhide match his steps. Before he knew it he felt the edge of his desk against the back of his thighs. "What do you want?"

Ironhide leaned forward placing a hand on either side of Ratchet to grip the desk. "What do you think I want?"

Ratchet frowned and attempted to push the other mech away only to have Ironhide push him back further onto the desk. "I am tired, I've got a damaged relay, and I am most definitely not in the mood to deal with whatever it is that you **think** you want."

"You know what you need Ratch? You need to relax."

Ratchet blinked. "What?"

"You are too tense. You need to unwind as the humans say."

Ratchet's optics widened as he recognized the exact wording he had used on Ironhide in the recreation room the night before. "Ironhide…"

"What you need is a good, long, hard interface." Ironhide slapped the rifle out of the CMO's hand and surged forward claiming Ratchet's mouth in a forceful kiss. The other mech made sounds of surprise as he felt the data pads on the surface of his desk being crushed against his spinal plating. Ironhide grunted as he lifted the rest of Ratchet's frame onto the desk and quickly crawled on top.

Ratchet made muffled sounds and attempted to push the other mech off only to have his hands wrenched back over his head and pinned in place. He gasped as Ironhide released his lips to make his way down into the sensitive cables of his neck. "You fragger! You scrap heap of a traffic drone! Get off me you glitched lunatic!" He gasped again as a sharp bite was delivered in response.

"Love it when you talk like that. Do it again."

Ratchet managed an incredulous look down at the dark mech now dragging his dentals along the pull bar decorating the medic's chest. Ratchet was unable to stop the moan that escaped his lips as he registered the warm moist heat tracing the various mechanisms making up his torso. He felt the weight of the other mech shift slightly and he grinned at the opening quickly bringing up a knee.

Ironhide grunted as Ratchet's knee made contact with his abdominal plating. He looked up at the brightly colored mech and returned the grin. "That all you got?" He nearly laughed at the dark glare aimed his way. Instead he gaped in surprise as the medic's other knee joined the first and pivoted sending him flying over the side of the desk.

Ratchet chuckled darkly as he sat up and looked over the side of the desk. "I warned you but no, you just had to…frag!" Ratchet tried to scoot off the desk but was too late as Ironhide swept his leg around taking out two of the four legs holding up the desk sending both the desk and Ratchet to the floor. Ratchet's servos scraped along the slanted surface of his desk as he slid down to the floor. Just as his pedes touched the floor Ironhide was on him again, the full weight of both their frames on the unsupported part of the desk easily bowing the already ruined piece of furniture.

Ironhide took advantage of Ratchet's surprise by wrapping his legs around the other's and once again pinning hands above the brightly colored helm. A startled yelp echoed in the small room covering the sound of a cod piece being wrenched off. "I wanna hear you scream my name medic." Ironhide tweaked the components of Ratchet's now exposed interface equipment causing the medic to cry out.

"Not…going…to happen! You sorry…son of a...nngghh" Ratchet arched his pelvis further into the dark mech's clever servos. He brought his head forward and managed to latch onto Ironhide's unprotected finial with his dentals.

Ironhide let out a strangled shout and realized too late that he'd lost control of the medic's hands. A fact that came to light as a fist made contact with his jaw whipping his helm to the side. Ironhide shook his head. "Primus Ratch. You hit like a human!" Another fist hit on the other side blurring his optics. He tasted energon in his mouth and felt something wet trickle down his chin. He cycled his optics until he could focus enough to make out more than vague shapes and colors. "Correction, you hit like a human **sparkling!**"

Ratchet roared and bodily slammed into the weapons specialist sending them both into the wall with a loud crash. Ratchet quickly maneuvered Ironhide into a seated position with his back against the wall while he straddled the older mech's lap. He gripped the other's collar plating with both hands and pulled him up until their faces were mere inches apart. "You… you… "

Ironhide smiled weakly and spit some energon off to the side through a cracked lip. "You gonna finish that sentence Doc?" Ironhide grunted as he snapped an interface cable into one of Ratchet's ports. "Or you want me to finish it for ya?"

Ratchet jerked as he felt the initial connection. He looked down in surprise not even having noticed when Ironhide had removed his own cod piece. He jerked again as the weapons specialist snapped one of the medic's own cables into his port. Ratchet's optics opened as wide as they could go and he arched backwards as the full force of a complete interface loop come online.

Ironhide felt his dented mandible pop as he gaped and rested his forehead against Ratchet's chest. He began cycling information packets across the connection and groaned at the sensation it produced. He could have shouted for joy when he felt a return from the medic across the link. He began to pant as the cycles increased speeding up each time. He reached up to grip the trembling mech on his lap and pulled those deliciously shaped hips into his own grinding their intimate circuitry together.

Ratchet cried out and brought his head back down to mouth at the black finials decorating Ironhide's helm. The dark mech growled and pulled their frames tighter together. "Oh Primus! Faster!"

Ironhide grunted and ground their plating together harshly as he increased the speed of the cycles across the link. He hissed as he felt fingers scraping along his back plating before finally digging in deeply into his shoulder joints. "Say it!" His panting became erratic as neither his vents nor his internal cooling system was able to keep up with his system's demands.

"Frag you!"

Overload warnings flashed across his vision but he ignored them instead putting in more effort to increase the information output into Ratchet's systems. "Say it Medic!"

Ratchet screamed and felt Ironhide's shoulder plating warp under his grip. "Slag! Prim-Primus!" Overload washed through his frame destroying the last of his control. "Ironhide!"

Ironhide stiffened at the sharp pain in his shoulders and the sound of his own name. He howled as overload burned through his systems and hugged Ratchet's frame closely to his own.


End file.
